Ultra Jet Sunsets
by Zoe Welling
Summary: When Beverly unexpectedly runs out of Jet, she is forced to take a trip to Goodneighbor in order to restock her supply. Without a reliable weapon and tweaking due to the lack of chems in her system, she is attacked easily by a raider. Though to the rescue is a cocky man in a weird jumpsuit and another who refuses to say 'shit' but admits to being an ex-gunner... what? MacCready/OC
1. Prologue

Prologue

Everything was still as she sat there. More still than usual, in fact.

The grand masterpiece of Jet, it was. The sky was painted in it's typical bright hues, all tropical and such like she'd see in old magazines of those strange getaway islands. It was beautiful in it's own, casting its color over the Commonwealth as if the entire state lived beneath a stained glass window. There was a short but peaceful moment in the time that it took for the sunset to saturate all that it glared at.

But she had it better… and that's where the Jet came in. Sitting there on the rooftop of an old apartment building, periodically inhaling the drug, she was able to view what looked like a postcard capture in its utmost vibrancy. It wasn't like anything else she'd seen before, and each time it got even better.

Then, as if God said, 'fuck your sunset,' the girl ran out of her beloved Jet. She pushed the red pump frantically, her stimulated hands somehow managing to crack the plastic from the repeated gesture. Lips still wrapped around the exit way of the drug, she tried sucking in any that might've been released from her efforts. It was a futile attempt, however.

"Shit," she said as if in pain, gingerly setting the device down beside her. _I mean, I will be if I don't get myself more of it_ … she figured while thinking to herself. Being addicted to post-war chems was no easy feat, especially when you grew up looking to Jet as a rehab from the outside world and not the opposite. A severe dependency on the drug eventually left her crippled anytime she was without it- or some other form of wasteland bullshit that would substitute in its place.

Regretfully turning around and hopping down from the crumbling edge of the roof, she muttered to herself in a sort of aggravation. "Guess I'm heading back to fucking Goodneighbor..."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

The Commonwealth was a dangerous place, but there were certain factors that increased it's violent tendencies even further: nightfall and cities. And guess where she was at that very moment? In the middle of Boston as the sun was just about drowning beneath the horizon line. To put the cherry on top, she was getting jumpy- tweaking out without that last hit of Jet that she didn't get but wanted so fucking bad. It was enough to make her plod through that trash city and straight to Goodneighbor even despite the shadowed death all around her.

If she did in fact die that night, at least she knew it was in the name of chems; there was no better way of going out than like that, she figured. Plus it wasn't like she really had anything else to live for, so why not take a Sunday stroll and attempt to make it alive to yet another hell hole of the wasteland. It was where good chems could be sold and every time she dealt business with them, she was not disappointed one bit. Hell holes did always offer the best deals.

In all, what continued to bring her back time and time again was the unlimited stock of Ultra Jet. Usually it was a tough chem to come by, but for some reason every dealer she'd encounter managed to have enough of it to make an entire army fly up to the clouds. Not only that but it was a good place to go if you wanted to lay low. No one there knew her name nor did she know any of theirs, which was how she preferred it to be.

Not that she was shamed by the habit, she just knew that when people had your name, a plethora of consequences could come from that. Everyone in the wasteland was resourceful in some way or another and finding information wasn't a difficult feat to conquer. Dealers were easily tempted with ratting people out in order to keep their business rolling, throwing anyone under the bus with a snap of the fingers. It wasn't like she had a long list of adversaries nor a target on her back, it was just common anxiety that she guessed probably lived within each and every one of them.

Anything was possible in the wasteland-

"Don't fucking move," a voice from behind her sounded, the clinks of a pipe pistol sounding menacing from directly next to her ear. Slowly but roughly a hand made it's way around her neck and clamped hard. She didn't try to struggle, knowing that the raider would probably have a bullet in her head within no time at all. "What do you have on you?"

She answered in a cautious voice, "an empty Jet inhaler, a Buffout pill and some Mole Rat meat." The low hum that came from his mouth made him sound unimpressed with the loot she carried on her person, which worried her. He might just simply shoot the girl there and move onto greater muggings that held better reward.

"Give me the Buffout," he demanded. She shifted slightly, going to reach into her pocket for the little pill before feeling something else press against her thigh through the denim material. Wait… she still had a feeble knife on her. Honestly, she thought she'd lost that the last time she got black out high, but apparently not.

Well, if she had any chance to defend herself it sure as hell would be in that moment. So, reaching into the pocket that housed both the pill and the knife, she grabbed the more lethal weapon and quickly swung it out and into the raider's thigh. The grip on her neck loosened as he fell back, but that didn't stop him from pulling the trigger in a last second effort to end her addict life.

The bullet was aimed just perfectly enough to enter the furthest point of her side, almost far enough to just graze her but unfortunately found itself embedded in the flesh. She too tumbled down, but wasn't going to pussy out due to the minor wound. It hurt like hell but it wouldn't be enough to disable her entire being- especially not with the adrenaline rush… and maybe something more.

Buffout worked wonders, even more so when she fished it out of her pocket quickly and tossed it into her mouth, chewing the pill instead of taking the time to swallow. Then she swiftly reached for the raider's thigh and ripped the knife from the muscle, bringing it up to strike him in the throat. In the time it had taken her to retrieve the Buffout, he'd been able to line up another shot and pulled down right as the sharp edge impaled his throat.

That time around, the bullet found it's way into her right side shoulder, sending the girl backwards and onto the dusty ground. Now that- that hurt like a mother fucker. She could tell that the Buffout was numbing the pain but she merely chewed it and the chem hadn't yet entered the rest of her system like it should have. Additionally, it was only one damn pill.

At least if she die there in the street, she'd have something good running through her. Buffout wasn't exactly top shelf but it did make her feel a little weightless. Or maybe that was just the double bullet action she'd just received not a minute ago.

She wasn't sure if her vision was going black or if it was just the nightfall, but either way something green and bright tore through the veil of darkness around her.

"What in the hell?" She muttered to herself. "I didn't think the afterlife would be so bright and green…" Then a loud voice came from above her.

"What the fuck is this?" The light moved a little, allowing her to make out a shadowy figure standing behind it. In fact the light appeared to be attached to the person's wrist… now that was a weird way to be swept off by the Grim Reaper. "I thought I heard someone getting killed… didn't think it was gonna be him though."

She realized that whoever it was definitely wasn't go to whisk her soul away. "Please, help me."

"Hey! Is everything alright?" Another person from what sounded like down the street called out, overwhelming their situation. The man from above her replied back sarcastically, green light waving around with his risen hands.

"The fuck does it look like?" She could hear a scoff echo through the street from the other stranger at the statement.

"Sorry for asking then, do you need a hand or not?" Yes, please, she wanted to say but it was a little hard to talk for it aggravated the wound in her shoulder too much. All they had to do was give her a Stimpak and be on their way; she'd manage to at least get by some cover and hold out overnight until morning. The girl really wasn't asking for much at all there.

Green light man hollered once again, "yeah, it would be much appreciated." With that there was a sound of jogging footsteps until the second newcomer was in her line of sight, though her eyes watered too much for her to make out any features, and the shadows offered no aid.

"Damn, you're knocked up good, he hit both your eyes?" The newest addition asked. She squinted.

"No." Green Light snorted at her response, trying to smother a laugh with his mouth.

"Oh, that's just her face," he chuckled with amusement. Well, he was flattering.

"Did you just call me for help to make fun of how a shot up girl looks?" The other one questioned Green Light in irritation to his behavior. There was a lot of nasty people out there, but those who openly used offensive humor as their weapon was a little off to both her and the second stranger.

Green Light shook his head, moving to cross his arms. "Nah, nah. I just need someone with Stimpaks because I only have one left and I suffer from a greedy complex."

"Charming," the other guy said whilst he reached into his side pouch. "Selfish but caring all in one. What the hell am I supposed to call you?" In his hands were two Stimpaks, halted there for the moment as the two casually conversed. The girl felt her pain increasing, words caught for the fact of trying not to worsen the symptoms. Otherwise she'd be begging to have their banter stop and just leave her to heal herself.

"Nate," Green Light answered. The other one made a brief smile.

"MacCready."

"What kind of name is that?" Nate ask him in a derogatory tone as if finding the title offensive in some sort of way.

"It's my last name asshole," MacCready replied sharply, though he sounded as if he regretted the string as it left his mouth. Nate shrugged and stood there, scratching the back of his head.

"Question still stands," he prodded. MacCready rolled his eyes and looked up to the man with an exasperated expression on his face, as if he couldn't believe the dialogue that was occurring between them.

He finally took the first Stimpak and injected it close to the area of the first wound, all the while looking back and forth between her and the menace. "Are you always this annoying or did you step in Super crap this morning?" Then came the second Stimpak by her side, which immediately began fighting the inflammation and pain.

"Do you always talk like you're twelve or do you just not like saying naughty words?" Nate jabbed in reference to 'Super crap'. MacCready sighed and straightened up slightly, trying to divide his attention between the minor argument and the injured girl.

"I've decided to try and clean up my act, okay?" He admitted, not really liking to feel as if he was lesser a man for not saying 'shit' while the other guy was just a ball of vulgar insults. Trying to ingore it, he turned to the girl. "Also, are you okay?"

She nodded, just beginning to push herself up onto her elbows shakily but steadily. There was still pain due to the fact that the bullets weren't removed just yet, but overall it would be bearable enough to reach better medical attention. "Yeah, just gotta get to Goodneighbor." Not only was she dreaming about getting fixed up, but she also had Jet locked on her mind yet. Turns out not even raiders can stop her from getting there.

"Okay but honestly can I know the name of the dipshit that came out here without a gun?" Nate asked her pointedly, noting the knife that was struck into the raider's throat. Effective enough, he guessed, though it could've been avoided a bit better with the aid of a gun.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Beverly, and I traded my Pipe in for caps." Nate wrinkled his nose, noting that it was a bit of a stupid decision. Admittedly, she would agree, but she needed the chem money at the time and when her fix for Jet is bad, Beverly will do anything to get the hook up.

"Caps for what? A death wish?" He went on, making MacCready huff in aggravation.

"Could you lay off?" He said, still crouched down next to Beverly who answered Nate before the man could make a clever retort to being asked to chill.

"Jet," she told them, straight up about it. Nate laughed and MacCready sighed, looking down. Yeah that was usually the reactions she got. Either a belittling or disappointed one, as another kid like her had fallen into step with the life of chems; or more like just fallen. Beverly supposed she didn't really get anywhere when she was just running in circles, chasing one dirty inhaler after another.

"O-ho, so that's why you look like you took a day at the spa and asked for bowling balls instead of cucumbers," Nate quipped, neither Bev nor MacCready really getting the joke. He must've spent too much time trying to make himself clever that he just went a little too out of the ballpark with the one liners. Or he knew more about pre-war concepts than they did and used it to his advantage. Either way the pair wasn't impressed nor amused.

While trying to stand, Beverly figured that'd be a nice place to cut off their interaction and get back on her way to Goodneighbor. "Well, it was a pleasure having you order another person to help me," she told Nate without much gratitude. "But I really must be going." Though her legs were a little wobbly, she managed to stand up straight without any help from either of the men. Soon the Buffout would kick in and help her make it to the dealers without much trouble.

"I really need to thank you though," Beverly turned to look at MacCready, her smile washed in the green light of Nate's… whatever that thing on his wrist was now that she could better see him. "I owe you big time."

Not that she really wanted some random man's favor hanging over her head, Bev figured he wouldn't go too hard on her because he seemed nice enough to just leave it go. And if he did,'t, well… she owed him fair and square.

"Ha, yeah. I mean you could buy me a drink at the Third Rail," he suggested casually, sort of joking sort of not. He wouldn't be offended if she didn't really want to, though he could use the favor to cool off after having to deal with the douchebag behind him.

"That depends," Beverly quipped, finger in the air as she pushed in between the two men so that she could loot the dead raiders body. _Oh my_ , she thought while pulling a satchel off of the attacker's shoulder, hearing the tumbling of caps from within. Apparently he'd mugged quite a few people before he'd met up with her. Upon having the confirmed money that would buy both drinks and chems, she went on,"okay, yeah, I gotcha."

"And me? I get a drink too, right?" Nate asked, pulling a big puppy dog face on even though the entire time they've known each other, he'd been a complete dick. MacCready went to speak but decided against it, figuring it would be best to leave it up to Beverly to choose what she wanted to do with the money.

Sighing, she muttered an, "alright." He did in fact save her to some degree, and with all those caps, she'd have enough to get them some beer and then move onto the bigger and grander things. The Jet… Bev couldn't wait.

"See we're all pals now," he told the other in mock excitement, making MacCready roll his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

"Don't count on it."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

Goodneighbor was just up ahead and it was beginning to make her mouth water. The anticipation for that wonderful little thing called Jet was all but overpowering every one of Bev's senses; hence her speedy travel across the trash and debris while the two men lingered close behind.

Nate found her eagerness amusing, since he figured she was either waiting to get him and MacCready off her back or was just that desperate for the chems. Or perhaps both, he figured was another validation.

"You should really take it easy, I know you got two Sti-" MacCready began to warn the girl, but she sharply interrupted him. Not even bothering to turn around Beverly was quick to dismiss his concern, not feeling the need to be pampered if he wasn't a walking and talking inhaler.

"I'm fine, thanks." Nate made a face at the short lived interaction, wanting to comment on her behavior but decided against it because if there was one thing he wouldn't be, it was a hypocrite. Her sour, withdrawn attitude was probably mild to the things that he had just said not ten minutes before, so it was better off left unmentioned.

They were only a couple yards away from the doorstep of Goodneighbor anyway, so there wasn't any point in trying to cause trouble just yet. At least wait until the drinks come, Nate mused to himself, observing the upcoming town's walls. Absently he wondered what the place was even like, since he'd never actually gotten around to visiting the patriotic settlement of the infamous John Hancock. He'd heard a couple stories from Preston about the supposed leader, though all it did was shower him in a bad light of addiction and blind eyes to crime.

On the other hand, Preston seemed like a goody two shoes, virgin man in his mid thirties, so anything that went beyond his little comfort bubble was labeled a threat or unorthodox. That perspective of a biased view wasn't really in Nate's favor but he still took it into consideration because, if he was being completely honest, he knew Jack shit about what was going on in the wasteland. Any info he could gather from the small band of minutemen was going to help him greatly, no matter what opinion stood behind it.

Nate might've been a cocky man but he wasn't a stupid one.

"Final- fucking- ly," Beverly sighed as she placed a palm against Goodneighbor's front door, catching her breath for a moment while waiting for MacCready and Nate to reach the location.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Nate asked, having not been so far behind. He looked up at the neon sign that was exclusive to the town name, impressed with their exterior so far. Seemed like it was going to be his kind of hangout, unlike the stiff Bunker Hill he'd just come from before running into Beverly. Everyone there seemed like they had sticks up their asses or something.

Beverly looked to them out of the corner of her eye, the right side of her face pressed against the cool, metal door of the place. "Sorry, just… catching my breath." Then she stood up straight and turned the knob, pushing the door open. Upon shuffling inside, Nate immediately went to looking around to see what he was possibly up against.

And surprisingly, what he was greeted with was a bald guy wielding a cigarette in his hand, adorned in an outfit of straight leather.

"Hold up there," he said to both him and Beverly, making Nate wonder where the hell MacCready was, as the man wasn't with their group anymore. "First time in Goodneighbor? Can't go walking around without insurance."

Nate was able to spot MacCready across the way, talking to some Ghoul woman in a shop. Though he was too busy with the dick in front of him to care about the other one.

Who the hell did this guy think he was? Fucking insurance? "You better back off, or you're the one who's going to need insurance," Nate told him calmly, taking the tiniest step forward so that he was in front of Beverly. Not that he really cared too much about her, he just knew that she was hurt and being patronized by their first obstacle in Goodneighbor was probably the last thing she wanted to deal with. He knew that if he got shot twice, Nate would want someone else to handle this shit.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of all that 'pathetic'" The guy said, making Nate snort. That was literally one of the most lame jabs he'd ever heard. "You hand over everything you got in them pockets or accidents start happening to ya. Big, bloody accidents."

Bev pushed against Nate's chest so that she could get into the guy's face next, but all of their attention was turned to yet another figure that was slowly emerging from the back alley.

"Whoa, whoa. Time out," the raspy voice called, belonging to the newest member of the scene, making Nate assume it was a Ghoul under all the colonial clothes he was spotting. "Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap."

Slowly the tricorn clad Ghoul and the leather man came together towards the far center of the lobby area, all the while everyone else there stood in silence, watching.

"What d'you care? They ain't one of us," the bald guy argued. Well obviously fuckin' not, Nate thought whilst rolling his eyes. It seemed the Ghoul wasn't having any of it, however.

"No love for your mayor, Finn? I say let 'em go," he demanded, black eyes daring Finn to act in any other way than what his words told. Of course, this guy was cocky and stupid, choosing to further disrespect the mayor- ooooooooh, Nate thought to himself. So that was John Hancock then; he seemed like the kind of person that the vault dweller would very much so enjoy the company of.

Leather man stiffened up, "you're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor." Ouchie, Nate hoped that Hancock didn't take that into consideration and kick them out- even though he highly doubted that would happen- but the man came to know to expect the unexpected in the Commonwealth.

Something about that final statement made Hancock's eyes narrow momentarily before they settled a little softer. He then began walking forward, less harsh tone coating his words, hand extended in a friendly sort of way.

"Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something…" and then Finn was on the brick floor of Goodneighbor, a puddle of crimson sparkling in the neon haze that surrounded them. Well… shit. Hancock was a cold son of a bitch, and Nate was thrilled to be in his presence. "Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here."

Then Hancock turned to look at Nate, the bloody knife he'd used to kill Finn tucked safely into that colonial getup. "You all right, brother?"

"I'm fine," Nate answered, shrugging with exaggerated, slow blinking. "Thanks for taking care of him." The Ghoul nodded, spotting Beverly standing nearly all behind Nate by that point. She wasn't high enough to handle witnessing someone just get stabbed in the middle of Goodneighbor, to which Hancock became worried.

"Good. Now don't let this incident taint your view of our little community," he told them warily, "Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome."

Yikes, that brought Nate back to school, having to deal with a constant cycle of American Revolution lessons and tours due to growing up in Boston itself. 'Of the people, for the people,' was more like a Vietnam flashback than anything else, turning his view of Hancock to more of a joke than what it was. Stealing the now corny lines from the revolution just set a strange taste in Nate's mouth; though he figured it was fair since it was like America was getting a new start, just like it was back in the 1700s.

"Of the people, for the people. Oh brother…" Nate commented lowly, thankfully making Hancock laugh. He really didn't want to be the second homicide of Goodneighbor's night.

"He he he. I can tell I'm gonna like you already. Just consider this town your home away from home…" Well now, that was welcoming enough, Nate mused in a giddy sort of way. "So long as you remember who's in charge," the Ghoul then said, just as low as the vault dweller's last comment, making the man put on an overtly understanding smile.

"Yep, yep. Of course," Nate assured him, seeing no more than a smirk from the mayor before he made his leave from the scene. It was silent for a few moments as he watched the Ghoul's retreating back, attempting to process everything that had just happened in a matter of minutes.

From across the way, MacCready began making his way out of Daisy's shop, confusedly spotting Finn's dead body loitering on the ground in front of Beverly and Nate.

"So… did I miss something?" The mercenary asked, taking a step over the body so that he stood closer to Beverly, who seemed still in shock by whatever death had just occurred. Nate reared around and shook his head, coming to stand by the girl as well.

"Yeah, the mayor just like, completely killed that guy," he chuckled in a morbid way. MacCready made a face of realization and shrugged, sort of happy that Hancock had finally taken care of Finn. He had to deal with the man's insurance antics before when it was his first time in Goodneighbor, but then MacCready was well capable of handling himself. And that's why Hancock was quick to give him the VIP room to set up shop.

Beverly began shaking a little, between the two men. "Let's get to the Third Rail, I need to get something in me, now."

"Me too, lady," Nate sighed as they all stepped around Finn and headed towards the alley in which Hancock had disappeared into. On the other side, Nate found that there was a separate large street just around the corner, though it appeared to be all the made up the rest of Goodneighbor. But it was cozy, in that way, since it was small and compact.

"Here," Beverly said, mostly to the vault dweller, who was looking around with his jaw slack out of discovery. He'd almost walked by the Third Rail, wandering around like Dion.

MacCready smiled at going back home at last, as it had been a long trip of fighting Super Mutants until he found his way back to Goodneighbor. Well, then he ran into Beverly and Nate but they were all headed to the same place, so it worked out. Plus he was getting a free drink along the way.

Stepping within the bar, MacCready pushed his way in front of Beverly so that he could greet Ham. "Hey there, Ham. How's it going?"

The tuxedo wearing Ghoul smiled at MacCready, making his tough exterior appear much less frightening. "It's going great. And your trip?"

"Alright," MacCready answered, shrugging. "I didn't get hurt, so that's good. But I also didn't get any good loot." Ham made a face of disappointment along with him, knowing that feeling all too well. Pretty much everyone in the Commonwealth did.

"Yeah, yeah. Well that's good," the Ghoul nodded before beckoning them towards the staircase. Behind Bev and MacCready, Nate just simply smiled and moved to go towards where the bar must've been. As he pushed forwards, he noticed Beverly eyeing up what appeared to be Jet on the arm of a chair behind Ham. Expectedly, the girl casually took it into her new satchel that held all of the raider's money.

He wondered how many times she stolen chems like that. "Nice one."

When they were safely concealed in the first landing of the stairway, she whipped it out of her bag and immediately took an aggressive hit, sucking in a deep, deep breath. MacCready heard the sound of the Jet releasing and turned, putting on a sort of disgusted face as he watched her. He just didn't see the point in getting hooked on those things when there was plenty of Addictol in the world to instantly cure any bad habit. It was a waste of money to keep supplying an addiction with expensive drugs when you could pay to take it all away, just once.

"Okay, sweet," Beverly said in a clear, heartier voice as she allowed the Jet to circulate through her. It made the girl's body feel light as all the aches disappeared into a dull pain. She didn't even care that there were still two bullets admitted into her flesh, as long as she had her Jet everything would be fine and dandy. "Let's go get those drinks now."

Then she bounded down the steps, going straight for the bar so that there could be alcohol pushing the Jet faster through her. Unfamiliar to Bev, since she'd only ever been in Goodneighbor a few odd times, was the robot standing behind the bar, apparently serving drinks.

"Hello there," she greeted the bartender confidently. MacCready and Nate loitered the area behind her closely, since the Third Rail was packed full of people that night. It seemed like everyone had the same idea as them.

"Greetin's luv, what's your poison?" It asked with a rougher British accent then what the bots usually had, making Nate smirk curiously at the paler model.

Beverly began to lift the flap of her satchel. "Give me some… vodka, I guess. And I'm paying for these guys too- what do you two want?" MacCready came closer to the bar, snapping in the bot's direction.

"Just give me the usual, Charlie," he said. Charlie reached for a bottle of vodka, as well as what looked to be a whisky, though it's label was half gone so neither Bev nor Nate truly knew.

"Agh, MacCready, of course," the bartender spoke, pouring two glasses while awaiting Nate's order. The vault dweller shook his head in thought, not really wanting to get hammered since he didn't trust being vulnerable anymore. So he just went with a simple beer instead of the hard liquor that the others were abusing.

"Umm, just a Gwinnett Stout, please." The robot made a sound that seemed close to a laugh.

"Couldn't tell ya the last time I heard 'please'," he muttered while tactfully pushing all of their requested drinks out towards their edge of the counter. In exchange, Beverly threw the allotted amount of caps on top of the bar, waving a thanks to Charlie before turning around, vodka in hand. The bar was extremely full, actually; enough that there wasn't a single seat available in the main room.

Luckily, MacCready had an idea. "Back there, see the red lights? We can sit there."

He pointed to the far end of the room, to which there was a warm haze seeping from the hallway there. Beverly nodded, moving around Nate so that she could lead the way towards the second space of the Rail. Upon entering, she found that it was entirely empty, not another person occupying the multiple couches and chairs along the walls.

"Nice," she commented, looking back to MacCready who just smiled and took a sip of his drink.

"Cool, so are we gonna bond or some shit, now?" Nate asked them as he came to crash down onto one of the couches, popping off the cap to his beer once he settled in the cushions. Beverly walked up to the far wall, wanting to look like she was admiring the paintings on the wall but really she was just stealing the Jet that was on top of the dresser beneath the frames. MacCready must've spotted her, because he walked up to the girl and smiled at the picture before them.

"Sure," he replied to Nate's question, then looked directly at Beverly who tried to act like she didn't just steal a hundred caps worth of chems. "You like art?"

The addict nodded, taking a hearty sip of her vodka. "Mhm."

"Yeah, me too. This room, it's mine, y'know?" He said, suddenly.

"Doesn't, uh, Hancock… own this place?" She countered. MacCready nodded fairly.

"Better me knowing that you just stole the Jet than him, don't you think?" He said in an almost threatening way. Beverly narrowed her eyes, wondering why the fuck it suddenly meant so much to him that she was stealing from the place that just left chems out in the open. If they didn't want someone picking it up, then they shouldn't leave it there for all eyes to see.

"What are you gonna do about it?" She asked him before downing the rest of her vodka, slamming the glass down onto the dresser which released a cloud of dust from the contact. MacCready narrowed his eyes as well, shooting his hand out to grab her stolen satchel and emptied the three inhalers from within. Beverly just stood and watched, beginning to shake from anger of having her chems ripped away by the little douchebag.

"That," he stated pointedly, taking the chems within his arms and turning to throw them into the trash can. They thumped down to the bottom, almost making a tear escape the girl's eye.

"Well, nice knowing you two, I've gotta get going before I kill someone," she said with gritted teeth, feeling the annoyance of her bullet filled wounds begin to pound along with the headache she was working. It was almost like knowing that she didn't have any Jet in her satchel was setting the girl off, even though she was still on a high. That and the immense anger she was experiencing due to MacCready's actions was no help. "If you find me almost dead on the road again, don't bother saving me. Since I'm such a fuckin' burden to the world…"

She waved at the two men before walking briskly to the other part of the Third Rail, jogging up the staircase and pass Ham to the outsides of Goodneighbor.

In the VIP room, Nate snorted and swung his head back, guzzling his beer before finishing it and throwing the bottle to the floor. "Nice bonding, dick."

MacCready sighed, scratching the back of his neck in a sort of undecided manner.

"Yeah," he said, staring at the empty glass of vodka.


End file.
